Cigarette Kisses
by Hessa London Rachenber
Summary: A short oneshot for Sherolly appreciation week. Post His Last Vow
A short one-shot for Sherolly appreciation week.

Cigarette Kisses

"I really wish you'd give those up."

Molly approached Sherlock as he stood just outside the cottage overlooking the Moors, smoking what would be his fifth cigarette of the day.

It was one o'clock in the morning, and a surprisingly mild evening for mid-February; The fifteen-hour rainstorm they'd had that day had seen to that.

Six weeks had passed since Moriaty's appearance on UK televisions, and Sherlock, Molly, John, Mary, and baby Elizabeth had been residents at the cottage for the past three weeks following an arson attack on Baker Street that left Sherlock homeless and Mrs. Hudson hospitalized.

The arson attack had been set off by whomever was behind the Moriarty video, and said person made it perfectly clear that the next targets would be the Watsons and Bart Hospital's most prestigious pathologist. Mycroft had been swift in his arrangements for their safe haven; Sherlock, the Watsons, and Molly had been moved in the dead of night. Mary went in to labor a week after their arrival. They had been prepared for this- John a doctor, Mary a nurse, and Molly with her own medical background. The home delivery went by swiftly, and Elizabeth Sherlock Watson entered the world February 10, 2015, and with her arrival came back Sherlock's uncontrollable craving for cigarettes.

"When we're back to London you'll get your wish."

He smirked at her annoyed expression

"There's really no point in me listing all the disadvantages they're going to cause you more so now since your surgery, is there?"

"Nope," he said as he took another drag, "besides, it's bad luck to waste a perfectly good fag."

Molly reached over and plucked it out of his hand and brought it to her lips, "I'll finish it then. Wouldn't want to tempt fate." She said as she winked at him.

He shook off his surprise and said to her, "Never took you for a smoker, Molly."

She smiled, "Hmm. There's a lot you've never taken me for, I think." She gave him a knowing smile.

"Touché." He said as his cheeks reddened.

The two had them had had the fight of the century 24 hours earlier. A Screaming match that ended with them nose to nose, and then turned into a 15-minute snogging session, but was cut short when they were interrupted by the Watsons coming back from their afternoon walk.

Sherlock had disappeared soon after, and this was now his and Molly's first conversation since the previous afternoon.

"I apologize for yesterday." He said.

"Accepted," she said as she took another drag, "this will be over soon, I'm sure. I know you're going stir-crazy, but it can't be much longer. Mycroft said he's doing all he can. Just be patient."

"I'm trying."

"And no more guns in the house."

"Righto."

She smiled back at him and took one last drag before dropping the cigarette and stomping it out, "So about yesterday… I know it was- "

"-Surprisingly enjoyable." Sherlock said.

A beat passed.

"I was going to say we could forget about it."

He turned to her and looked at her closely, "Is that what you really want?"

Her expression hardened, "What are you saying, Sherlock?"

He stepped closer to her, "I'm saying that I enjoyed it. Kissing you. I'd do it again."

Molly took a step back and crossed her arms, "You don't do sentiment. What's the point?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and looked at his feet, "People change."

"And you?"

He raised his eyes to hers, "I care for you. I care for John, Mary, and Elizabeth. And These last few weeks, I think it has all just magnified my feelings for everyone. I don't think I realized I was lonely until now. I don't know if I want to be on my own forever."

Molly looked at him closely and read the emotion in his eyes. It was true. He had opened up a lot more since they arrived at the cottage.

She stepped closer to him and brought her hand to cup his cheek and stood on her toes and kissed his lips and pulled back, "When we get back to London, I think I can help you with that... But the fags must go."

She smiled at him and turned to go, "Where are you going?" He asked sounding surprisingly hurt.

"Bed," she said as she walked towards the cottage. She made it to the back door entrance and looked over her shoulder before entering the cottage, "You can join me if you like."

Sherlock fished out the packet of cigarettes from his pocket and dropped them into the water-filled ash tin bucket before heading into the cottage.


End file.
